


Never Fantasize About Your Psychic Crush

by JZXR7



Category: American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Blind Cordelia, Cordelia can read minds and Misty can't think Appropriate Thoughts, F/F, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 16:43:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17410526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JZXR7/pseuds/JZXR7
Summary: Misty has never seemed bothered by Cordelia's mind-reading abilities. Ever.So she's been touchy. Extremely so. Which is usually incredibly helpful since she can't do anything herself, really.This is not helpful when Misty's mind is manufacturing pornographic fantasies with her in the starring role.Especially when she'd like to make them come true.





	Never Fantasize About Your Psychic Crush

Cordelia stood in her bedroom, closet door thrown wide open. Of all the struggles of blindness, the fact that she could no longer make herself presentable was one of the things that irritated her the most. It was petty, but she was allowed to be fucking petty at this point. 

She grabbed and tried to pull on a dress at random, hoping it wouldn’t clash with whatever shoes were closest to the door. It hardly mattered at this point. She wasn’t going to be winning any beauty contests at this rate. And, of course, it’s not like she was worried about keeping her man anymore. Asshole.

“Ms. Cordelia?” The voice came from the hallway, soft accent making it easy to identify. “I was just wonderin’ if ya needed any help. With your clothes, or the stairs.” She didn’t need to add “Because you blinded yourself again to find me.” It was heavily implied. And she’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Face no doubt flushing in shame, she nodded. Knowing her current state, she’d end up putting the damn thing on backward or something. She heard the door close, and the dress was pulled out of her hands. “Lemme get you outta these.” She considered arguing, but she had already surrendered to needing help with this oh so simple task. Misty getting her out of her pajamas wouldn’t make her look any more pathetic than she already was.

**God, she’s fucking gorgeous.**

Misty’s hands were gentle on her skin as the thought surfaced in her brain. It certainly wasn’t hers. Which brought her to the ethical dilemma of whether or not to alert Misty of the dangers of touching her.

**I wonder what she’d taste like?**

She felt her temperature increasing. Misty Day was…miraculous, in many ways, and she wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t find her attractive. But her thoughts were verging on intimate. “Misty, dear. I can…hear you?”

**Shit. Think appropriate thoughts-Cordelia naked-SHUT UP. SHIT!**

Misty’s hands hadn’t moved. Cordelia continued to be bombarded with thoughts and images, Misty’s mouth on her breasts, the two of them sprawled out on her bed, Misty inside of her. It was, to her great embarrassment, incredibly arousing. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve made ya uncomfortable. Should I go?”

No. Anything but that. She turned in what she thought was Misty’s direction, seizing onto muscular shoulders. “I’m not uncomfortable. Don’t leave.”

A hand settled on her hair, pulling her against Misty’s chest. Her cheek was against bare skin, and the thoughts returned. 

**I want you. Is that okay?**

The question came from Misty’s head. She couldn’t help but be shocked, regardless of the more creative fantasies the woman before her had accidentally shared. “I want you too.”

She was lifted off the floor, legs straddling Misty’s waist before her back hit her mattress. Misty’s mouth attached itself to her neck and she moaned. Misty’s subconscious provided her with thoughts of hickeys on her neck, of Misty’s teeth scraping her pulse point, of how much the woman on top of her would like to mark her up. “Misty. I can’t do makeup. Don’t even think about it.”

Sheepishness and amusement hit her in waves, Misty grinning against her. “C’mon Dee.” Cordelia could sense the pout on her lips, if not see it. She decided not to dignify the goad with a response, tangling her hands in Misty’s hair to pull her in for a kiss. It clearly sent Misty’s mind straight for the gutter, a symphony of filth flashing its way through her brain before settling on the image of Misty between her thighs, head between her legs and tongue inside of her cunt. She pulled the woman more tightly against her. Misty moved away from her mouth, nipping over her jawline.

“You weaponizing your dirty mind is just mean.” Misty seemed content to ignore the complaint, hands drifting over her chest.

**I want you out of your clothes.**

She nodded, rewarded with an overwhelming surge of arousal that was not her own. The hands against her body were hurried and desperate. They tugged insistently at her remaining clothes, sending them sailing to some unknown part of the room.

**Jesus Christ, I want to touch you everywhere with my fucking mouth.**

“Then do it, dear.” 

She may have been underestimating how literally Misty would take that statement. Her thighs were shoved apart, hands trailing between her legs while a warm mouth enveloped one of her nipples and sucked roughly. “Fuck. That feels so good, baby.”

**Want me to do it somewhere else?**

Yeah. She really fucking did. She was already drenched, most likely due to the sheer amount of pornographic material dancing through Misty’s head. That the woman clearly was making no attempts to hide anymore. As if on cue, Misty’s mind began going through the numerous positions she could be eating Cordelia out in. She was pretty sure she was going to combust from blushing too hard, at this rate. Not that she wasn’t enjoying it immensely. 

She grabbed Misty’s shoulder and pushed her down her body insistently. The woman placed light bites over her chest and torso as she went before freezing as she reached Cordelia’s cunt. She ran her tongue lightly over the seam of it, and Cordelia groaned. “Baby. Don’t be a fucking tease.”

She could hear and feel Misty laughing, hands holding her thighs apart and keeping her from moving. “Rude.” 

**You like it.**

She did. Very much so. “Misty, please. Fuck me.”

There was no warning, either verbal or mental, before Misty’s fingers were driven inside of her. A warm tongue lapped against her clit as the fingers began moving, and she screamed. She wished more than anything she could see Misty like this, fingers pumping roughly inside of her and head bobbing between her thighs, but supposed she ought to just enjoy feeling it. Misty was just as enthusiastic about sex as she was everything else, obscene noises coming from her mouth as she went about getting as much of Cordelia’s wetness into her mouth as possible.

**You taste just as good as I thought you would.**

“I’m glad-fuck! That feels so good. Add another finger, Misty, please.”

Misty seemed happy to oblige her. The burning stretch between her thighs was a sharp contrast to the almost gentle ministrations of the woman’s mouth. She could feel herself tightening around the fingers. They curled within her, scraping against that one spot Hank had never been able to find. Jesus fuck she was close. “Misty. I’m almost there.” The words came out a desperate pant. “You’re so good, baby.”

**Come for me, Dee?**

She began to move faster, throwing one of Cordelia’s thighs over her shoulder. The new angle allowed her in even deeper. Misty sucked her clit into her mouth, tongue working over it, and she came with a wail. 

She was immediately hit by a wave of smug self-satisfaction. Misty gave zero indication of moving any time soon, easing her fingers out of Cordelia gently before pressing a kiss to her thigh. She could hear Misty suck the cum of her fingers, little moans of enjoyment escaping her. Once they were clean, she lay her face against Cordelia’s torso. “I think ya may be my new favorite thing to eat.” 

And, she was blushing again. Of fucking course. “More so than breakfast? Where we should be right now?” 

**…About that.**

Misty nuzzled her head against Cordelia’s stomach, almost purring as hands began to stroke through wild curls. She paused her ministrations as a particularly alarming thought hit her. “…Misty. What time is it, exactly?”

**Time for a nap.**

She crawled up the bed, wrapping strong arms around Cordelia’s waist. “Misty. How late are we, exactly?”

**We’re not late. You’re sick, and I’m taking care of you. So we’re gonna stay right here.**

That did not sound like it would fool anyone. She didn’t care. She could feel something slick against her thigh, how turned on Misty was as they lay there.

“Fine. We’re both deathly ill. Now come here.”


End file.
